I love short stories. This is mine; the one when things go better than expected, and in fact, explode, BUT they also go down, historically-speaking, far worse than expected, and explode too.

So my April 1st was March 24th. How, you ask? We were to move homes on 1st April, but we were pushed to do so on March 24th, because of the Pandemic, whose noose hung over us, like a flickering bulb, that was on the verge of going on, rather than off.

Stage 2 – we are in the new apartment. The world around has shrunk and continues to shrink. We are caged in a 3-bedroom apartment with a glorious view of greens and tall skyscrapers alike, far smaller than our earlier one, yet far more of a home.

To my utter surprise, the boundaries within begin to explode- even as the world around hedges in. My mind is climbing over the fence, pushing, pushing forth, and not letting up.

3 months later, I look back, and I write about being caged, or about defining what a Cage can lead to when its construct is seized by you.

As a routine of sorts begins falling in place, my mind’s borders expand exponentially, every day. New ideas, new novels, and stories float in from the skies, as I sit and sip my tea, and then at my new study table. The days begin slipping by. I watch on a screen, in my cage- horrified by what has come upon this world of humans. It is unreal, yet I know it as fact, it’s happening. How could I remain untouched- although caged?

In the days that follow :

• I rejoin my music group, that I had left behind in India, and start researching and singing new songs;

I actually begin :

• the journey toward my Café, a dream I’ve long nurtured- I begin to bake, any flour I could lay hands on, I use up for baking: buckwheat, millet, rice, chickpea, spelt, corn-flour. Results are good, and at the very least, edible.
• I pick on Netflix and Amazon to choose that which show off good writing.
• I read, and I read and I read – both on and offline. I finish a number of books that had been lining my shelves, those I thought I’d read when I’m older. I am older already.
• Then a First Outing- the world appears greener and brighter and newly refurbished as if I am seeing it for the first time after being reborn.

The pandemic and its weeds have reached everywhere, in a march so aggressive, we can’t de-weed fast enough. The invasion is overwhelming and devastating at so many levels, as we all deal with being caged in our own way. It is not over. It will be over. For now, this is my short story, as Thailand lowers its guard. The adage Home Sweet Home has taken on a whole new meaning. Share yours.